Christmas Maths
by azkabcn
Summary: A six year old Sherlock writes his mother a Christmas card. One-shot. Kidlock.


**Hey everyone! Here is a new one shot/drabble for you guys! Hope you enjoy it. This is my first time writing from Sherlock's mother's point of view, so please be gentle.**

I walked back into my bedroom after my usual morning shower. I was wrapped in my white bathrobe with a white towel piled 'like an ice cream' (as my six year old son would say) on top of my head.

I walked over to my wardrobe, mentally planning out today's outfit for work. Today was my last day at the office before Christmas and I would have a ten day break (which I specifically requested so I could spend some time with my two boys) before I returned to work on January the 3rd.

I picked out my black skirt and white shirt combo before returning to my bed.

It was then that I saw the white envelope on my pillow.

 _To Mummy xx_

I tore open the envelope, recognising my Sherlock's rather neat handwriting (for a six year old).

I held a Christmas card in my hand. A Christmas card that he'd stolen from his brother's room, apparently. (It had Mycroft's signature _M. Holmes_ inked onto the top left corner.) I opened the card and smiled fit to bust from ear to ear.

 _Dearest Mummy_

 _y = log_ _e_ _(x/m – sa)/r_ _2_

 _yr_ _2_ _= log_ _e_ _(x/m – sa)_

 _e_ _yr_ _2_ _= x/m – sa_

 _me_ _yr_ _2_ _= x – msa_

 _me_ _rry_ _= x – mas_

 _From Sherlock_

 _PS: I love you._

A fond 'aww' escaped my mouth as I saw the card. This was my six year old son. He was only six years old and I was so proud of him for writing me a card like this.

I displayed the card on my nightstand and then got dressed for work. I went downstairs after drying my hair to see Sherlock sprawled on the living room sofa, reading _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ and Mycroft at the dining table, with a textbook and a notebook open in front of him and a pencil in his hand.

'Mycroft, dear,' I sighed as I caught sight of the rather complicated trigonometry diagrams in the textbook. 'You know I'm proud of you for doing all that extra schoolwork, but it's _Christmas_. Take a break for a few days. Loosen up and enjoy yourself.'

'But Mother, I-'

' _No_. Mycroft, forget the maths. Just until New Year. Then you can work for as long as you like. OK?'

He sighed, putting his pencil in the fold of his notebook. 'OK,' he groaned. He ran a hand over his face.

'Thank you, darling. Now, go and put your books upstairs and spend some time with your brother.' Mycroft rolled his eyes but stood from the chair and gathered his books.

As he walked past me, I wrapped my arm around him in a hug.

After he disappeared upstairs, I sat on the sofa. 'Hey Sherlock,' I said, wondering how long it would be before I could get his nose out of the book.

'Hello,' he replied, not looking up.

'What are you reading?' I asked, even though I could clearly see the front cover.

'Harry Potter.'

'Is it good?'

'Yes.'

'Sherlock, baby, come a here a sec.'

Without a sound, Sherlock marked his page, closed the book and put it in the space between him and the back of the sofa. He crawled into my lap a second later and I wrapped him in a tight hug.

'I saw your card on my pillow this morning,' I whispered in his ear.

'Did you like it?' he asked me, looking me in the eye.

'I loved it, baby. Thank you.' I kissed the tip of his nose.

'Did I sound smart?'

I smiled. 'You sounded very smart, Sherlock.'

'Smarter than Mycroft?'

'Way smarter than Mycroft,' I agreed.

'Good.' He sighed and rested his head on my chest. 'Mummy?'

'Yes, baby?'

'Guess what I'm going to do when I'm older?'

'What are you going to do when you're older?'

'I'm going to be a detective. The best one in the world.'

'Really now?'

'Yes. And I'm going to have a friend who helps me all the time and he's going to live with me. Because it's never fun to live on your own, is it?'

'No, it's not, darling.'

'And Mummy?'

'Yes, Sherlock?'

'I love you.'

'And _I_ love _you_. I always will.'

And then I hugged my boy like I'd never let him go.

 **How'd you like it? Sorry for the algebra in the middle but I saw a post on Facebook with the picture and a caption 'if Sherlock wrote Christmas cards'. Someone else commented 'A six year old Sherlock writing this to Mummy – that would make an awesome kidlock.' So yeah. I hope you guys especially over in the CumberCollective enjoyed this. Over and out.**


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